


Bite Me (Softly)

by Bai_Marionette



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Autistic Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, BPD junkrat, Borderline Personality Disorder Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Implied Past Child Abuse, Implied past cannibalism, M/M, Self Cannibalism, Trans Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, cannibalistic thoughts and urges, canonverse, gentle hog, graphic description of gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-15 05:11:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11799105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bai_Marionette/pseuds/Bai_Marionette
Summary: Rats are true omnivores.





	Bite Me (Softly)

Junkrat’s skin buzzed, his very teeth itched in his mouth and he could almost feel the bite of his nails from within his thick work gloves. This was not his usual buzzing, it was different, it was an engineered response to a stimulus nearby, an animalistic instinct that he had been trained to act upon ever since he was an ankle biter. He could feel those old buried instincts try to creep up on him and he was pushing back, he was pushing back, he was trying to push back.

Wide amber eyes were dilated and Junkrat couldn’t stop licking his lips, his mouth felt so dry. He was sweating buckets underneath the soot and he could barely focus on the half completed trinket in his hands. He could barely remember what it used to be, vaguely remembering what the little bits and details in his mental blueprint were, let alone what the crafted junk was supposed to be. It made him frustrated, made the buzzing under his skin even worse. Even in his recent tinkering, he could barely stop the twitches in his limbs, the restless stirring of his fingers and toes, the endless nails picking at his brain. 

Something was out there, so close that he could practically feel the haste trained into his body. He had to be quick, he had to get to it quick, he had to be quick. He had to get there before the buzzards and Outback did, before scavengers contaminated the area and brought the bugs with them-

The blond roughly put the trinket into his knapsack, tried to squeeze his eyes shut, forcing himself to breathe through his mouth and not through his nose. He had to focus, he had to remain in control, he wasn’t… he wasn’t that rat anymore.

Junkrat could smell it, he knew when there was a body around and he could gauge the age of the corpse almost entirely on scent alone. It made an old feeling in him - no not a feeling, but a honed artificial instinctual urge, try to re-emerge. It scratched at his insides, drying out his throat and making his mouth run thick with saliva. He knew before he had even done it that he was sniffing the air and licking across the front of his teeth – about thirteen hours old, still mostly fresh. 

The skinny Junker wanted to tell Hog to turn towards west, cut the journey to their heist and halt it for a few hours – long enough for him to find that corpse and dig in, dig into that still fresh flesh, thinly peel back the skin, preserve the viscera and tendons, and pick each limb clean to the bone, gnaw into the bone enamel until he came into sweet contact with the delicious marrow inside-

Junkrat’s breath hitched and he could feel a violent shiver run down his spine, he felt a phantom burn and heavy pressure on his chest and held back a wheeze. He tried to hunch further down in his sidecar, eyes straight ahead and told himself to just bare with it all, as he grit his teeth. The feelings not only persisted, they worsened as the Junkers continued on their ride. The smell was growing stronger, it was getting tantalizing close, almost annoyingly close, just enough to tease him and nearly enough to provoke him to jump from the moving sidecar, risk his bodyguard’s wrath and bolt for it. He hadn’t had flesh in days and he was so hungry, rations weren’t helping, water didn’t quench that one copper thirst, nothing he ate satisfied him-

Junkrat paled under his sunburnt skin and the soot he painted on himself, then vomited bile over the side of the bike. Hog growled, swerved and hit the brakes, putting the bike to a skidding halt. The big man had been about to say something but Junkrat was breathing heavily over muffled words as he leaned over the hot metal wall of the sidecar, definitely feeling the bite of the edge in his bony ribs.

It sounded like he was sobbing.

_ Not enough, ain’t ever enough. _

:::

Two days went and Junkrat hadn’t opened up about his episode but there were telltale signs outside of verbal admissions. The soot he wore was thicker now and he took very good care to keep his gloves on, even in the blistering heat. His obnoxious chatter was less than enthusiastic, more of recycled conversations and throwaway questions that he had tried to pester Roadhog with in the beginning of the shared travels together. It made the elder uneasy to see the usually bubbly man so… withdrawn into himself.

It was nearing dusk and Roadhog had decided that it was their time to crash for the night. Although, it more than felt like a chance to keep a closer eye on ‘Rat and make sure the younger wouldn’t vomit on himself again. That minor scare had been more than enough to signal to the bodyguard that something was wrong. The younger was too skinny to just throw up valuable food in his stomach, he barely ate enough as it was, probably thinking he was slick in picking at his ration food and trying to over indulge in those sugary, over processed snack cakes that he had snatched in the last town over. Not only that, but Junkrat always bragged on having a tough stomach, said something about his childhood had made him a “true omnivore in all types of cuisine,” whatever that meant. 

“...” Roadhog looked over at the other, pulling back from setting up their tent for the night. Junkrat was staring in the fire, as per usual, but he wasn’t babbling to himself or fiddling with his hands - which was more than odd, it was downright unnerving. The bodyguard had never known the other to be so completely still, just sitting in place and staring intently into the flames. He barely seemed to blink, gaze almost faraway and distant, as if the Junker was lost in a memory or in a trance of some sort. Roadhog debated smacking the back of the younger man’s head to make him snap out of it but then thought better of it. 

The larger man grunted as he heaved himself up from off his knees, calling out to test the waters a bit, “Rat.” No response, but he continued, “Food’s ready - get over here.” 

Again, no response. Not even a fraction of a movement to indicate acknowledgement. It both pissed off the older Junker and deepened his concern. His concern had only just slowed to a halt when, after a long pause of silence, he thought he heard something. At first, he had brushed it off, but when the noise persisted and it seemed to grow… increasingly wet, little added sounds of crunching and chewing, he turned to look back and that was when he saw it- 

That barest flicker of movement and Roadhog was on it almost immediately, moving quick despite his size. What he saw both horrified and disgusted him. He had assumed that the younger male had scooped up a lizard or something, he had displayed some pretty damned good senses in hunting the creatures early in their arrangement. It would not have been first time that the bodyguard had interrupted the blonde during a late night snack of his.

But no - it was all too clear when Roadhog got closer that Junkrat was gnawing on his own hand, blood coating his mouth and sharp teeth embedded in the tendons surrounding the bones of his wrist. The larger tried to make a grab for the limb when those amber eyes suddenly darted to him, the blond making an almost animal-like growl from within his skinny throat, emotions swirling wildly inside his eyes. Anger, desperation, a cornered animal with its kill -

“‘Rat,” Roadhog tried, barely able to keep his composure around the sight of the Junker’s own half-eaten hand. It looked more than agonizing, the younger had to feel it. Blood was running down his arm, leaking into his elbow and making a general mess over his already dirty cutoff shorts. “‘Rat, look at me - look at me, Junkrat.”

Junkrat snarled again, his lips almost pulled back in a snarl, as he increased his hold on his own wrist. Roadhog could almost make out an almost wet crunching sound, as he realized that the younger was going to break his own wrist. Roadhog made a split, albeit hasty, decision to intervene directly. He went straight for those skinny arms, frowning behind his mask and made sure that his grip was secure in one first before he was reeling back the other. Just as Junkrat was trying to leap up and snap at him, Roadhog hoped that the Junker didn’t take his next action personally - punching him straight in the face. 

The result was almost instantaneous; Junkrat crumbled. Roadhog almost felt bad but after glancing back at that gnarled hand, he thought better of his feelings and sighed, laying the unconscious body far enough from the fire not to accidentally burn the kid but close enough to have light while he worked. The elder still retained some of his old life, prior medical knowledge as an ER nurse coming handy, as he tried to figure out how best to stop the bleeding and then clean the wound of dirt and saliva. He didn’t want whatever was in Junkrat’s mouth causing an infection in his own gnawed hand. 

As Roadhog was trying to lift the hand to wrap it, the unthinkable happened: a finger - up to the second knuckle - came loose and fell into the fire. He barely held back his own bile at the sight.

Just when he had thought that he’d seen everything in the Outback, Junkrat had to prove otherwise. 

:::

When Junkrat awoke later, it was late. The fire was nearly out, down to small embers because no one had rekindled it. His face hurt, part of his face throbbing and he could have sworn it felt like he had walked into a metal pole and broke his nose again. His hand also burned and throbbed, screaming and protesting when the Junker tried to move. He could just barely make out the feel of ugly stitches underneath the gauze when he felt, more than heard, Roadhog grunt from beside him in the dark. Junkrat jumped in his skin, clutching his wounded hand and his bandolier in a single long fingered grasp. He his his own panic at registering four fingers on his hand - the finger mean for the pull string noticeably missing.

“Easy,” Roadhog said slowly, almost like speaking to a frightened animal. He had his hands up and his mask still on, even though he usually took off the leather at the end of the night, something about being uncomfortable to sleep in, Junkrat thought he remembered. He wondered why Hog hadn't slept yet, didn't the larger usually make him take second watch? Why had Roadhog let him sleep? Did something happen? He would have remembered that, or at least he thought he would have remembered that too-

“-rat, Junkrat, focus.”

Junkrat snapped back to attention, mind buzzing like it usually would with none of that annoying echo afterwards. He felt distinctly calmer now, not completely, radiation poisoning be damned, but much more so than earlier. It took him a moment but then he blinked, face draining of color as he began shaking. His bodyguard’s voice became distant as the younger Junker became ill to his stomach, grabbing at his middle and curling in on himself, biting back sobs and an angry scream caught between vomit and his vocal chords.

The vomit won out and Jamie was heaving onto the desert sands, Roadhog flinching back before giving reassuringly soft back and shoulder pats. The younger was openly sobbing, throat in excruciating pain, guilt and regret forcing up stomach bile when his stomach was empty of its contents. Bile became dry heaves and rough, ragged sobs into his lap. His chest burned and his face felt disgusting with a combination of dried blood, gory bits of vomit, saliva and tears mixed with the soot that Junkrat would spread over his face. 

It was such a long, uncomfortable pregnant silence and then Junkrat took his first breath, then another, then several more. By then, the younger Junker's breathing was steady, less shaky than his previous ones and it cued Roadhog on his time to speak, “‘Rat… what the Hell was that?”

Junkrat didn’t say anything, curling in tighter around his middle, trying to make himself as small as possible. When he didn’t say anything after a few more minutes, Roadhog growled, taking ahold of the younger man’s shoulder and forcing the other to look him in the eyes. Junkrat was staring back into space, but his face was too terrified, too shocked about what had just transpired to have really registered Roadhog’s presence. 

“...Jamie,” Roadhog tried, that got a small flicker of recognition and much like a wheel on old, rusty gears, Junkrat’s head slowly raised. He looked like he was prepared to be punished, eyes wide and watery like a small child in trouble. Roadhog wanted to pity him but the notion made him sick to his stomach; so instead, trying to avoid a similar fate as his employer, he made his voice as comforting as possible, crouching until they were near eye-level with each other. He avoided questions that could possibly trigger the other into a fit, “Do you need me to do anything for you?”

Junkrat was silent for a minute, but just leaned forward, resting his blonde head atop the elder man’s enormous belly. He stayed there for a whole minute, too quiet for Roadhog to feel anything short of unnerved by the silence, then just as he was about to pose another question, Junkrat spoke, “‘m sorry.”

Roadhog let out a small sigh of relief, almost unheard behind the thick material of his mask, he let a large hand pat at Junkrat’s back in soothing motions, trying to relax the other as best as he was able. The younger was so quiet, so still - Roadhog didn’t like the new behavior and he wanted it to be over quickly. Junkrat wasn’t himself and this new person in his skin made the elder uneasy with the excess of vulnerability. Junkrat didn’t make himself vulnerable, he hated it, bragged that he could handle his own and had done so for years by himself before he had hired Roadhog - any time he could brag about it, he did, his pride nourished ten-fold whenever the bodyguard made so much as a grunt of affirmation in response.

It was several long minutes later before Junkrat spoke up again, voice haggard and seemingly aging him ten full years, “I...It was one of them bad places, Roadie. They… they ate people. Me folks never made it out an’ I was just stuck there.”

Roadhog tried not to blame himself. But guilt ate away at himself anyways, knowing that this was partly if not mostly his fault. His silence cued Junkrat to continue and after a shaky breath, he did. 

“Junkers...eatin’ other junkers, scavengers… anyone was free game to ‘em,” Junkrat made out. “If...if there wasn’t ‘nough to go ‘round, then...t-they turned on each other.” His breathing spiked, bordering on hyperventilating and Roadhog felt a new wave of horrid sympathy for the younger man, trying to cage the smaller body in his arms. Junkrat was shaking, eyes almost far away and staring at some horrible memory. “I knew a kid… Good kid, a junkrat, like I used ta be, good eye for findin’ wires… taught me to tie me shoes,” there was a sad wet chuckle that bordered on a sob, “They chopped him up, Roadie.” 

Roadhog stiffened, as Junkrat continued, “Didn’t even tell his folks, his ma went mad and flung herself at a fuckin’ snake pit while her lad put his head in the scrap dealer’s saw bed. Just… it was so fuckin’ -” Junkrat briefly paused to hold back a sob, clenching his flesh fist atop Roadhog’s belly, obviously choked up, “They were fuckin’ savages, Roadie. They ain’t care ‘bout nobody, everyone was free game to ‘em. Nobody was safe.”

“I-I ‘emember when… I didn’t- I didn’t catch nothin’ and t-they took me limbs,” Junkrat’s voice was getting panicked, pitch and tremors increasing as he spoke. “T-they swarmed me right over, Roadie. I never even knew we had so many in the town and they were just all grabbin’ and scratchin’ and - and I saw the axe and I was screamin’ and me leg - no, me arm, even me goddamn eye, Roadie…!”

“I can’t ‘emember what hurt the most - everythin’ was jus’ me screamin’ for it to stop. It didn’t...they didn’t... Then, then… t-they left me outside. T-they...left me to die,” The last part was said so quietly and it cracked whatever hardened shield that Roadhog had built around his heart. Junkrat curled tighter into Roadhog and the giant let him, wishing that he could do more than just hold the other.

The fact that Junkrat hadn’t been killed outright did not go unnoticed by Roadhog, it was a punishment - meant to make the person suffer and ultimately deal with all of the dangers of the Outback on their own, weak and injured and unable to defend themselves. They hadn’t just taken his limbs, they had cleaned their hands of the boy - no wonder Junkrat always went back on his ability to handle himself. He had survived. 

Roadhog had no idea how and while he told himself that he didn’t want to, a small part of him wondered just how much of a toll that the entire experience had on the younger Junker. What parts about Junkrat came from that community and what did he develop on his own? How old had he been when his parents had been killed, when the village had turned against him?

Although it had definitely crossed his mind, the bodyguard had also never asked Junkrat directly how he had lost his limbs. He had figured the explanation would have been along some lines of an explosion accident or a trap or heist gone wrong - not, a grotesque punishment from savage cannibals. As for the eye, he had only recently found out in the last few months about the glass eye replacement and it had near scared the shit out of him when Junkrat had made a joke of taking it out and balancing it on his nose and fake-swallowing it. The additional knowledge of knowing Junkrat’s childhood made the memory a bit sour in his mind but he tried to hold back his own bile. There had been enough spilled as it was. 

There was a long silence where the pair were just listening to the desert settle itself as they held onto each other, reassuring themselves that they were both safe and real.

“...How long had the town -?” Roadhog had to know, if only for his selfish reasons, he needed to know.

Junkrat shook his head against Roadhog’s stomach, “Dunno. Me folks weren’t from there, know that much, rumor goes that it was… started when the town’d been desperate but then they never stopped.”

Roadhog nodded, letting out a sigh, so the town could have began the practice after the meltdown but there was no way to know for sure without finding another villager - the elder Junker growled at the thought, making Junkrat shift uncomfortably from him until the elder tightened his grip and forced him back in place. 

“Sorry… for,” Junkrat began. “For being a freak,” he laughed but it sounded pathetic and he knew it. He was trying to lighten the mood but his eyes were barely beginning to dry from his earlier crying. “I know nobody wanna work for a bloke who might take a chomp outta ‘im, so uh…,” the blonde swallowed thickly, “You...you don’t have to stay if…,” leaving the ending open for the other’s own interpretation.

Roadhog knew what his response had been before the blond even said anything, petting down wild, tangled blond hairs. Burn scars rubbed against his fingertips in between the bald patches atop the younger man’s head, the elder thought he spied some nail gouges and a thin white scar but forced himself to look away. He didn’t need to know anymore, at least, not tonight, not right now. His curiosity had been more than satisfied and he’d had enough for the time being. He snorted in response to Junkrat, sensing that he might have taken too long to answer and that the other might be getting anxious, “Doubt ya coulda really eaten me. Yer teeth’s too small.”

Junkrat barked out a laugh, a genuine one, but Roadhog had to wonder if that reaction was because the blond found his reply actually funny or if he had once taken on “big game.” He had seen Junkrat eat when food was more available, the boy could and would pack away all the food placed in front of him, scraps and all. He decided not to think about too much and just take pride in that he had made the younger laugh and relax a bit.

:::

It was some few weeks later, Junkrat was once more riding in the sidecar, babbling on about something both aloud to himself and to Roadhog, although he doubted that the other was truly listening to him. He had been about to poke the bodyguard and restart his game of pushing the other’s buttons by relentlessly making pig noises when he caught the scent. It was almost pungent, rank and all too familiar to the blond.

Junkrat went stock still, mouth beginning to water and eyes taking on a faraway look when the younger Junker shook his head hard enough to let loose a trail of saliva dribbling off the corner of his mouth. He smacked his tongue atop the roof of his mouth, digging into his knapsack for the specially issued treatment that Roadhog had made for him. 

Junkrat bit into the jerky noisily, distracting his other senses by focusing on his own obnoxiously loud chewing noises. The jerky wasn’t half bad but compared nothing to human flesh, but it also placated the dark craving inside of him and made it easier to ignore when he caught the scent of corpses.The blond spared a glance at his gloved hand, thinking back on how Roadhog had stitched it so nicely and gave soft reassurances that he wouldn’t let Junkrat hurt himself like that again under his watch. It had made more than one feeling rise up in the blond and while he had blamed the sun for the redness of his face at the time, he knew he had been blushing - he had never known anyone to take care of him, to not be disgusted by his past or even be at ease touching him after seeing it firsthand.

Junkrat smiled a little to himself, swallowing a bite of jerky and biting into another piece, thankful more than ever in how he had both found and gotten Roadhog as his bodyguard and a somewhat friend.

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be like a short drabble but lmao im trash and i rlly like angst so here ya go


End file.
